


I'm in Love With the Shape of You

by lemoninagin



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Birthday Smut, Body Worship, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 10:02:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10003856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemoninagin/pseuds/lemoninagin
Summary: Shiro isn’t used to this.He isn’t used to being pampered, to feel so hot and vulnerable under someone’s touch that he’s sure he’s going to crumble with emotion any second now.





	

Shiro isn’t used to this.

 

He isn’t used to being pampered, to feel so hot and vulnerable under someone’s touch that he’s sure he’s going to crumble with emotion any second now.

 

But Keith and Lance are relentless, their hands moving like a well-choreographed dance together as they map out every curve, every distinct line of his body that they’ve explored in so many ways over time - though never quite like this.

 

Keith snorts this small laugh when Lance makes a much too feather-light touch near his armpit,  causing Shiro to jerk as the tickling sensation shoots straight down to his toes. Lance latches onto a nipple as he does it again, most likely just because he’s finding it amusing to provoke the most high-pitched strangle of a giggle from Shiro’s lips.

 

“Lance, quit tickling him,” Keith warns gruffly, though he’s smirking when he says it, like it’s not actually something he’s particularly condoning. He makes eye contact with Shiro, fingers ruffling through the tuft of his white hair as he bores holes seemingly straight into his soul. He’s more to the side of him, has been mostly taking on the task of raking his nails up and down his sides, tracing over old scars. “He’s more sensitive than you think.”

 

“But it’s so _cute_ ,” Lance draws out the ‘u’, visibly pouting as he sends a tiny, although muted, glare in Keith’s direction. The comforting weight in Shiro’s hair disappears, Keith shuffles out of his line of sight.

 

Shiro doesn’t get much time to think about where Keith might have gone or what he’s doing, because that long, slim finger digs into his side this time, dances across his hipbone. Shiro shudders out a shaky, tapered breath when it slides the tiniest bit under the waistband of his boxers, snapping it lightly against his over-sensitized skin.

 

“I like playing with him like this, it’s fun,” Lance murmurs, his voice soft like it gets sometimes when he’s speaking fondly of him or Keith. “We don’t get to do it often, so I think we should take all we can get, you know?”

 

"Don't be greedy, Lance." There's the unmistakable _pop_ of a bottle opening. "This is for _him_ , not us."

 

Lance bristles, mockingly echoing Keith's words back in an obnoxious tone, but he doesn't say anything further like he usually might when Keith grates on a particularly sensitive nerve of his.

 

“Lance, Keith, you…” Shiro starts, wanting to say something that might diffuse any tension that could rise up between them, before he realizes mid-thought that by the tone of their voices, both of them are just teasing him, teasing each other.

 

Lance’s shoulders shake as he snickers at what's probably one of Keith's trademark pissy faces, gaze off somewhere higher at a point behind Shiro. It isn't long before he returns his full attention back to Shiro, pressing an open mouthed kiss over his erection through his boxers. Any words get lost through a moan, through the fog of Shiro’s vision as he arches his back and bucks into the touch.

 

Shiro has no concept of how long it’s been, has only been aware of how much his cock aches, of how Keith and Lance have touched every inch of him besides that in the gentlest and carefullest of ways while singing praises over him. It’s been a slow, steady sort of thing, so much different from the instant gratification driven Lance or rough, impatient Keith that he’s grown so used to in the bedroom.

 

It’s like being enveloped in the sweetest, most pleasant fog in the world. To be loved like this, to be appreciated and worshipped like he’s something worth their time - it’s a concept he’s been trying to get himself to accept more lately, but it’s been hard.

 

It’s funny, Shiro muses, as it’s almost like some kind of unconventional team-building exercise Keith and Lance have decided to take on, to try and get him feeling safer and more confident. They know him better than he thinks he knows himself sometimes, both aware that through the veil of bravado and confidence he forces himself to put on in order to lead the team, that there’s a distinct hole of insecurity lying in there that he shoves down as best he can.

 

But when Lance and Keith find it, they don’t prod it, only work their way around it until it smooths out like clay, molding it into something better, something whole and new.

 

There’s sweat prickling Shiro’s heavily goosebumped skin, his toes are curling in anticipation as Lance finally tugs down his boxers.

 

A trail of burning kisses are sprinkled across his chest, down to his hips. Lance avoids his groin, instead biting and nibbling at his thighs. Shiro’s mechanical hand clutches at the sheets, the other tangles into Lance’s hair. It’s an unconscious thing, really, but underneath the pleasure of it all, he’s still apprehensive about touching either of them with that wretched part of him. He tries not to think too much about how often Keith specifically requests for him to touch him with it, which Shiro’s beginning to suspect he may have some not-so-innocent reasons for.

 

There’s a pressure on his shoulders - Keith’s returned, he’s faintly able to gather while Lance sucks a wet path towards his balls. Keith is pushing him up, draping his now completely naked body against his back. Shiro allows himself to be sandwiched between them, crying out a little louder than he normally does when Lance suddenly takes his length into his mouth.

 

He probably would have fallen back had Keith not been there, with his arms wrapped around his waist, holding him in place for Lance to better push his way between his thighs.

 

“You really are sensitive today, huh?” The shape of Keith’s smile burns into the nape of his neck, his lips moving quickly to worry an earlobe between his teeth. He tugs on it, slightly, around the same time that Lance pushes himself gingerly forward, mouth warm and all consuming around him.

 

“You’re...you guys keep teasing me, I…” Shiro huffs, canting his hips higher as Lance bobs back and forth, as he grips one hand onto the base of his cock so he can angle it more fully into his mouth.

 

“We can’t help it,” Keith admits, and one of his hands curls around Lance’s neck, shoving him hard enough that Shiro gasps at the sensation of hitting the back of Lance’s throat. “You’re so beautiful, so cute.”

 

Keith’s free hand traces over the scar on his left thigh when he says that, dragging it from there to the heavy weight of the wrist of Shiro’s mechanical arm, painfully slowly. Keith fingers the notches of it lightly, all while keeping pressure on Lance’s head, all while Lance hums his approval though his sucking, hand tightening around the base of Shiro’s cock. The vibrations of it skitters across Shiro’s skin, has him thrusting without thinking about it, desperate to get more friction, more _speed_.

 

Lance whimpers when Keith shoves him down again, arching his ass high up into the air. The sight of it all, Lance all red-faced and struggling to breathe as he practically chokes on his cock, is almost too much to bear.

 

Keith’s saying something, something encouraging to Lance in between telling Shiro how perfect he looks, how lovely he is. Shiro feels so unbelievably warm, feels like he’s floating on a cloud far above space, far above a universe in which he’s only accepted and loved.

 

Something is pressing between his cheeks, warm and slippery, pushing past the muscles of his hole with the utmost care. Keith is flush against his back, and Shiro jolts forward in surprise when Keith’s finger curls in _just so_ right as Lance slurps over the head of his cock.

 

“Oh god, oh god, _oh my god_ ,” Shiro moans, head tipping back, bucking faster than he means to.

 

Lance makes a strangled, choking noise, but continues as if it’s only a minor inconvenience. He wriggles his ass, tongue flicking over his shaft with his mouth still around him, a trick which he does exceedingly well. He says some muffled, incomprehensible thing in response, and Shiro feels that build at the base of his spine, mounting with the way Keith presses right onto his prostate, knowing where it is with practiced ease.

 

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Keith laughs, biting softly down onto Shiro’s shoulder as he adds another finger. He relents his grip on the back of Lance’s neck, who to Shiro’s disappointment, slides off his cock with a crude ‘ _pop_ ’.

 

Lance wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand, stretching his tired jaw out. “I said, ‘this is so fucking hot’. God, Shiro, fuck. You look great. Keith, are you fucking _fingering him_?” He’s panting, fingers digging into Shiro’s thighs as he stares at him, cheeks flushed, pupils consuming the usual deep blue of his eyes. He still has his boxers on, but his erection is tenting so hard it’s impossible to miss the way the flushed head is peeking through the top.

 

“No,” Keith says, deadpan, thrusting a third finger in.

 

Shiro can’t keep himself from pushing back into it, can’t keep his hands from reaching out and holding onto Lance for purchase as he shifts to his knees. Lance catches him, capturing his lips too in the process. Shiro cums that way, with Keith’s fingers pumping him faster and faster and Lance’s tongue slipping past his teeth. His vision fades a bit around the edges at the force of it all, groaning into Lance’s mouth, hips snapping back and forth as he rides out his orgasm.

 

They let him rest, finally. Keith gives him some space when he slumps heavier, boneless into Lance’s open arms. Lance pulls away from his mouth to place a small kiss to his forehead, while behind him he hears Keith shifting pillows around. Lance brushes his sweaty bangs away from his eyes for him, guiding him to lay down onto what’s apparently a wall of pillows Keith’s constructed.

 

They don’t ask to finish themselves off, only lay down on either side of him, both with chests heaving about as much as his. Lance slips under his human arm and curls up tightly to his side, waggling eyebrows over at Keith across Shiro’s chest as Keith possessively goes for his mechanical arm before Lance can so much as think about going near it.

 

Arms full of his rowdy lovers, he’s drowsy and warm, sated and feeling safe. He lets his mechanical arm settle with rubbing at the small of Keith’s back, uses his other to pull Lance in closer to him. Before unconsciousness overtakes him, Lance jabs him in the side.

 

“Huh?” Shiro responds groggily, eyes fluttering open to look at twin pairs of mischievous eyes staring back at him. “What is it? Is everything okay?”

 

“Happy birthday, Shiro,” Keith says, chuckling when Shiro’s eyebrows raise up. He can’t believe this. He didn’t -- he couldn’t have forgotten --

 

“We love you,” Lance adds, and Shiro relaxes, smiling.

 

“...Thank you. I love you both, too.”  


**Author's Note:**

> um. happy birthday Shiro??? I don't think i;m gonna be tagging this on twitter tomorrow tho lmao/////


End file.
